


Jackson

by TheonSugden



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Assisted Suicide, Established Relationship, M/M, Scars, Self-Harm, Tumblr Prompts, prompts, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-06 23:18:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3152051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheonSugden/pseuds/TheonSugden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robert asks Aaron about Jackson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jackson

**Author's Note:**

> The tumblr prompt for this: I have a prompt! What about Aaron/Robert are somewhat serious and Robert somehow finds out about Jackson and asks Aaron about him? Because I dont think Robert actually KNOWS about Jackson

Aaron still couldn’t get used to spending the night with Robert, instead of settling for a bump and grind before Robert gathered his clothes and tried not to look back. 

They still weren’t a “couple,” whatever that word might mean. They didn’t walk down the street holding hands, or whisper love poems in each other’s ear in a back booth at the Woolpack. Aaron wasn’t sure he’d ever want that type of relationship; he wouldn’t even try to guess how Robert felt about it. Some might say he deserved better, but they’d never known him, never given a damn about him, never would. All he knew was he looked forward to the nights when Robert was his and his alone. Even knowing that Robert would hog the duvet like the spoiled brat he was didn’t make Aaron feel any less content to be held in his arms. 

This particular night, Robert held his arms over his head, gently for once, not in an attempt at dominance. He stared at Aaron as if Aaron had some great answer to the question of life. Aaron would never get used to being looked at that way. Like he mattered.

He’d never understood why Jackson had felt that way. Made him feel unworthy, even though that was the last thing Jackson had intended. He’d never really noticed much of anything with Ed, a nice bloke who’d made him feel good but had also kept the distance Aaron had desperately needed to clear out most of what was in his head. And now Robert…baggage and betrayal in a very appealing package. The last thing Aaron had needed, but somehow, a man Aaron had needed more than he could ever put into words.

"Never knew my pits were so appealing," Aaron joked, trying to clear the air, and his own somber thoughts.

Robert tried to smile in return, but looked…vulnerable. The backlight from the toilet they’d never bothered to cut off, door still half-open, made him look like an angel. Fucking hell, Robert made him so soppy sometimes.

"C’mon, Rob. Tell me." 

He knew Robert didn’t like being called that. 

"It’s nothing."

Aaron sighed.

"Course it’s something. Haven’t seen you smirk all day. I know we ain’t exactly Mr. and Mr., but we can talk. Promise I won’t tell."

Robert leaned down to kiss his chest. At first Aaron thought it was an attempt at distraction, but it was more like a simple connection.  
  
"Right. If you don’t want to…just let me know, alright?"

Something clenched in Aaron’s stomach, enough to where he almost said he’d rather drop it, but he knew if he did, Robert would never really talk to him or feel safe with him again.

"Let me have it."

Robert blinked, tongue suddenly thick. Aaron thought a million years passed until he spoke again.

"The letter Bob got today…the one he showed you. From some woman named Hazel. Who…who’s Jackson? I saw your face when Bob mentioned him. And I saw his name in the cemetery when I first got back. Reminded me of Dad. The name I mean. Was he your…?"

 _Christ,_ Aaron thought to himself. This was going to be the hardest thing he’d ever have to say.

 

There was no way Aaron could put Jackson Walsh into words. Most days he barely strung together enough words for the next round. But he had to try. Not just for Robert, or even Jackson, but himself too.

"Yeah. He was my…was my first boyfriend. My first…everything."

Robert’s face darkened, whether from jealousy or fear of having a real conversation, Aaron couldn’t say. He tried to plaster on a lascivious smirk, running his delicate fingers up Aaron’s thigh.

"I guess I should thank him…"

Aaron grabbed his wrist with more force than he’d realized.

"Don’t do that. It wasn’t like that," he snapped.

Robert, trying to free himself, turned back into the hurt, scared young man only Aaron seemed to see.

"You’re not like that either," Aaron whispered, kissing the back of Robert’s hand before letting it slip away.

"Can’t really tell you what he was like," Aaron muttered, trying to continue on while he still had the nerve. "Never really had the chance to find out."

He’d never thought about it until now, about who Jackson was beyond the pain and fear.

He remembered how much Jackson had loved footie, how his mother had cared too much, his father never enough. He remembered how everyone had just naturally loved Jackson. He remembered how Jackson’s smile could have cracked the surface of the sun.

He remembered Jackson’s stubble as it made its way down his body. 

"Before I met Jackson, I thought ‘too good for this world’ was a crock of shit. It sounded more like a putdown than something nice. But Jackson was…he was a saint to make Edna proud. He was perfect. All he had to do was smile and you’d feel blessed by the angels."

He thought again of Robert’s smile, and how different, yet similar, the men were.

"He was perfect and I was…I was fucked up."

Robert gave him that concerned look that always made him feel defensive no matter who was on the other end of it.

"I couldn’t even look in the mirror most days."

He took a deep breath.

"I’m gonna tell you this as long as you don’t act like Paddy and have a paddy, alright?"

Robert took a moment before nodding.

Aaron knew Robert could hurt him so much - already had - but he also knew he had to trust Robert, the way he’d always been too afraid to trust Jackson, or most anyone else.

"I tried to kill myself."

Robert’s eyes filled with tears, and Aaron half-expected him to really walk out and not look back this time, because Aaron was just another tragedy, another burden, not a fancy sports car or a new leather coat.

Instead, Robert leaned over to kiss his forehead, cradle him. Aaron wanted to break down, but he knew if he stopped now, he’d never finish.

"I didn’t see any other way. And ev-even when I did, after I got another chance, I still felt so sick inside. I never knew why Jackson wanted me. I still don’t. But he did, and I couldn’t let go, even when it was what was best for him. I couldn’t even tell him I loved him. He was so perfect and I couldn’t just say it. I couldn’t until…"

Up to now he felt like he’d been telling someone else’s story. He squeezed his eyes shut as he began to remember it was him. He buried his face in Robert’s neck and let the other man run his fingers through his hair until he was ready to finish.

"He got in a car accident. He couldn’t move from shoulders down."

He had to stop again.

"He just couldn’t do it. Couldn’t let us take care of him. I’d never done one damn good thing in my life and I could pop out to the pub, or the garage, or bloody Salt Lake City if I wanted, but he couldn’t do anything. A lotta people can get past that…"

"But he couldn’t," Robert said softly, sadly, his chin resting on Aaron’s head.

"No."

"And you think that was your fault."

Aaron nodded, practically choking on his tongue to avoid the sobs building in his throat.

"You don’t have to say the rest, Aaron. I understand now."

Aaron shook his head.

"Almost done now. Wouldn’t want to spoil a lovely story, would we? He…he asked me to help him end it. They call it ‘dying with dignity,’ but.." he let out a bitter laugh. "It was ugly and fuckin’ awful. Didn’t matter. I had to do it."

Robert rubbed his shoulders, even as Aaron did his best to avoid seeing him.

"Because you thought it was your fault?"

Aaron grunted out a no as he felt like his eyes were on fire from holding back the tears.

"Because I loved him. I loved him and I…I watched the man I loved and he saw nothing ahead of him. Didn’t matter what I told him or his mam told him or the doctors told him. It was just a dead end road. Same as how I felt…same as how I’ve felt most of my life, only I can walk and run and take everything for fucking granted. He couldn’t. Didn’t matter what I wanted. I wanted him with me. He wanted to die. I had to do that for him. Never forgive myself for doing it, but I had to."

The tears came now as he put Robert’s hand on his stomach, on the faded cuts and marks Robert so often ran his fingers across when they laid together.

"That’s my story, and I’ve got the scars to prove it," he finished, trying to force out a laugh that would never come. "I thought I’d be sent down, finally stop hurting people. I wasn’t. So I hurt myself instead."

Still unable to look Robert in the eye, he had no choice when Robert lifted his chin up, briefly pressing their lips together.

"When I said what I did…I didn’t know…I didn’t know anything…"

Aaron sniffled, pushing the heel of his hand into his eyes to try to stop the crying that embarrassed him.

"Yeah, well…now ya do."

Robert rubbed at his eyes with his perfectly manicured thumbs, trying to take some of the grief into himself. Aaron wanted to let him, wanted to believe Robert cared so much about him, but he was still braced for the next attack. He knew how easy it was for him to hurt others, how hard he’d worked to try to stop this in himself, what a long way Robert still had to go to do the same.

He laid back on the bed now, flat on his back, staring at the dark ceiling. 

"It’s not fair, Robert. He’s gone, and I’ve got a good job. Mam and Paddy and Adam. And I’m in bed with one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever met. I just can’t shake that…that guilt. Wouldn’t even know how to try."

Robert had no words of comfort, or helpful advice. He simply sat up in bed, running his hand over Aaron’s forehead, watching him breathe. Maybe he knew Aaron wouldn’t want to hear it. That Aaron just wanted to talk and be listened to. Or maybe he just didn’t have anything to say.

After a while, Robert finally said something.

"How do you think he’d feel about me?"

Aaron wanted to snap at Robert for making it all about him, but one quick glance at the anxious man told Aaron it wasn’t that simple. Times like this Aaron allowed himself to believe Robert genuinely did care about him and what was best for him. Let himself hope.

The truth was he was pretty sure Jackson would have been disappointed in the path Aaron had taken. Aaron, and Adam, and so many of the people who’d cared about him in his short time in the village. But he also knew Jackson had tried to understand him, to the point where Aaron had all but shouted at him to give up, to stop trying. He had to believe Jackson would see him as more than just a car looking for a brick wall.

"I think he’d want me to be happy," Aaron finally allowed. "And you make me feel happy."

"I do?" Robert said, eyes wide in disbelief, along with gentle teasing.

"Furious and angry and…yeah. Happy. Happy’s somewhere in there."

He pulled Robert on top of him, the taller man straddling his lap, his golden hair beaming in the hints of sunlight beaming into the small bedroom.

"You make me feel happy…and alive." 

The last words were practically mouthed instead of spoken.

Robert’s blue eyes gleamed in the dark and light room, turning more colors than Aaron could count. It was as if those words set off something in him, in both men, that could never be changed.

He had been so afraid to admit it to himself, let alone Robert. He hadn’t felt alive in such a long time, longer than he could ever remember. Even with Jackson, he’d always been scared, terrified, no matter what Jackson had tried to do to help. 

Robert put his head on Aaron’s chest, listening to his heartbeat.

Aaron, without really meaning to, compared the smooth skin to Jackson’s stubble, how both men had felt against his naked body.

He wished Jackson could be there to see the man he was now. The man he hoped he could be. The man Jackson helped make him.

As he drifted into sleep, Robert’s head heavy on his chest, he turned to the window, tired eyes tracing a glimpse of Jackson’s smile.

Maybe Jackson was there after all.


End file.
